


Red Skies

by vioalentine



Series: Strands [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, definitely not graphic though, sourin, there's a slight mention of blood!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5499599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vioalentine/pseuds/vioalentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tiny, tiny thing of Sousuke simply reminiscing about a fading relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Skies

On the table, casting shadows of blue stains on the tablecloth, sat the vase he and Rin had gotten on vacation in Taiwan. Rin had ultimately been swayed by the crushingly romantic story the tiny elderly shopkeeper had told them in that tremulous, sweet voice exclusive to old people. Rin's eyes had taken on that enlightened gloss, that starry teariness, when he heard the words "it was designed in remembrance of the flowers they picked together as children." Embossed swirls of aquamarine glass interceded clear swampy blotches over its surface, more reminiscent of the sea than flora, in his eyes; he delved a little deeper and immersed himself in the shiny needlepoint bubbles that rose in waves within the blue. The white mass arched like a tide lined with sea foam, like softly beaten egg whites in the early stages of meringue, like the spray of pool water expanding halo-like from the breadths of his arms as he swung them around for another cut through the water. He could see the glittery strings of beads of water streaming from regularly spaced points along his arm, from his wrist, up his forearm, past the bend of his elbow, rolling over his biceps, his shoulder - his thoughts returned to the living room, half-closed eyes filled with a haze of golden afternoon light that crept toward that deeply blue shadow. 

Rin had so lovingly packed it in a double layer of bubble wrap and newspaper to bring it home. He had stood over Rin and intermittently reached out immature fingers to pop those bubble wrap bubbles, relishing Rin's laughter as he swatted him away. Rin had deft hands, pale for the amount of time he spent in the sun, flashing in the evening dimness as they rolled over one another, wrapping and wrapping and wrapping... And back again, in the sleepy blushes of morning and the comfort of home, unwrapping for a fussy little trip around the house to find the perfect place for the vase to inhabit. And here it was perched. 

He didn't know how long he had stared, just contemplating the colors and occasionally reliving some anecdote they recalled - a spot of royal purple like the shiny ribbon threaded through Rin's first medal, a blue-green like the scarf that Rin insisted he buy because "it complements your face," a swoosh of dusty pink like the strawberry ice cream they had laughed to tears over that one night they didn't sleep at all in favor of a midnight snack and conversation that turned hysterical, cobalt like his own jacket that Rin had taken away with him, one delicate streak of unmistakable transparency like the shards lying on the floor of the picture frame glass that had been shattered when Rin slammed the apartment door - when he realized that through the amorphous colorless gaps in the design glowed a distortion of the scarlet sky that framed the vase. 

_Red skies at night, sailors' delight_ , he found his mind mumbling. Often, when those ubiquitous sayings popped up, he'd make a mental note to look them up for some comfort in their validation - but upon accessing the internet he'd invariably forget. So they were empty words, potentially false, unreliably true, like so many that had tumbled from his mouth the morning that - 

If he narrowed his eyes to thin enough slits he could believe that those red skies were just strands of Rin's hair enveloping the vase, cradling the blue, and if he reached out maybe he could stroke organic softness instead of cold glass and empty, fogged space, and if he stayed there long enough maybe the reflection of his face with those two bits of clashing turquoise in that blue surface could finally dissipate, and if he closed his eyes everything would fall away. 

When he woke up the sky was still red. A little deeper, a little more maroon, but still akin to waves of blood. "The multitudinous seas incarnadine..." whispered an ingrained voice, a reminder of a cut on his palm dripping into and blooming in the pool and Rin's fury at his nonchalance - 

His back ached from sleeping in this prim, classy chair so obviously not of his own selection and for which he was too large. He was so tired, so drained. It could be his blood washing the clouds red, his life seeping into the atmosphere from wounds cut by the word _why_ ; an aggressive _why_ , a torturous _why_ , a tearful _why_ ,  _why_ used in the questions _why are you so equivocal_ , _why are you so afraid_ , _why won't you say what you mean_ , _why don't you care about yourself_ , all spit from the same redness to which his blood returned.

Clouds were gathering at the edges of his view, creeping to the window. 

The vase's telltale blue had been smothered by the darkness of the sky. He got up on creaky knees with hands trembling from hunger to support him and turned away. Everything glowed red. 

_ Red skies at morning, sailors take warning. _

**Author's Note:**

> Ohh, sweet Sousuke, go eat something, walk it off babe.  
> Thanks for reading! I hope it wasn't too confusing, this is probably my first fanficlet-thing. Based on very contrived experiences since I have no idea how romantic relationships work (and relationships in general, honestly), but I can take vicarious enjoyment/pain from their lovely love. :)


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